Sitting, Waiting, Wishing
by MissFANG-TeamGALE
Summary: The whole time I was reading The Hunger Games, I wondered what Gale was thinking, while he watched Katniss survive. I decided to get inside his head, and write what I think went on with him. Will be completely in Gale's POV.
1. Chapter 1

**So this is an edited chapter. I hope I did better with this one. Hopefully it has a lot more details and things too. I did leave some things out, that were in the original chapter, but they will be in later chapters, which will make this longer. Read and review, telling me whether you like the change or not.**

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**Gale POV:**

I knew the day of the reaping would be horrible. I knew something was going to go wrong when I woke up this morning. I could feel it.

But I had never expected this.

I knew as soon as Effie Trinket called out Primrose Everdeen, that life as I knew it would be forever changed. I knew Katniss would never let Prim participate in the games. I knew that my inane fantasy of Katniss and I running away from the horrid life in the District would never have a chance at coming true.

Katniss was strong. She was a hunter. But she would be up against barbarians who had trained their whole life for the Games.

She would die, before she would let Prim set a single toe on the grounds of The Hunger Games. And she planned to do just that, by volunteering herself in Prim's place.

I felt as if there were a ten pound weight in my stomach, as I watched Katniss run up onto the stage, screaming Prim's name. My face is hot and I feel my heart beating rapidly against my chest. Fearing I might pass out, I grip my chair in an iron grasp.

"Lovely!" I hear that vile Effie Trinket exclaim. She goes on about the process of volunteering, when the mayor cuts in.

"What does it matter?" He is clearly upset. Everyone is.

I am vaguely aware that Prim is screaming. She has latched herself onto Katniss, who I can see is struggling to keep her emotions intact. I get up from my seat, and stiffly make my way on stage. I gently pull Prim off of Katniss, struggling to keep my hold on her as she struggles against me, kicking and screaming.

"Up you go, Catnip." I say, hearing how tight with emotion my own voice is. I carry Prim offstage, to her mother, and sit back down.

The room is silent. No one claps and no one speaks. The only one who does not look like death has befallen them, is Effie Trinket.

And then something truly remarkable happens.

The people of District 12 place their three middle fingers of their left hand against their lips and hold it out to Katniss. It is our district's sign of love, of thanks and goodbye. It is rarely used, often seen at funerals. First only a few do it. When others acknowledge what is happening, we all join. I am fighting to keep myself from breaking down. It's almost more than I can bare, but I cannot show them that. I've got to be strong for Katniss.

Later, when I go to see Katniss in her holding room, I find myself in danger of losing my cool. I clench my fists, unwilling to let my emotions out.

I must make her realize how much of a chance she has at winning. I will not let her give up before the Games have even begun.

I advise her on things she would find wise to do in the arena. Katniss being Katniss, she argues with me, and I can tell she is not confident on the likelihood of her victory.

"It's just hunting." I say to her. I've got to make her see. "You're the best hunter I know,"

Her face falls as she looks at the ground. "It's not just hunting, Gale. They're armed. They think."

"You know how to kill." I press.

"Not people."

But still…

"How different can it be?"

Shortly after, the Peacekeepers come to escort me out.

"Please sir, a little longer." I plead with one of them. He shows me no mercy and begins to take me away. I panic. I have to tell Katniss. I can't let her leave without knowing...just in case.

She clings to my outstretched hand and I can see she is as panicked as I am. "Don't let them starve!" I know she is talking about her mother and Prim. I remember the pact we made last year. "I won't! You know I won't!" Now is the time. I have to tell her; I have to make her come back. This might not, but she has to know. "Katniss remember I…" The Peacekeepers give one last tug, yanking us apart, and then slam the door in my face.

"…love you!" My confession bounces off the wall, going unheard.

She didn't hear. I am overcome by my anger, my grief. I punch the wall and shove the Peacekeepers' hands off of me. Uncharacteristically, they let me and I stalk outside into the afternoon sunshine, which feels like a slap in my face. Katniss and I could be hunting right now; we could be together and not torn apart by the savagery that is Panem.

I kick the dirt with my boot. Never have I wanted to curl up and die, as much as I did now.

When were we ever going to win?

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**It's not much longer than the original, but hopefully I've slowed things down a little.**


	2. Chapter 2

***EDITED CHAPTER***

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**Gale POV:**

That night, they replayed the Reaping from all twelve districts. Our district's was pure chaos. It seemed to get the most attention because of Katniss's 'noble' volunteer. It was odd to listen to the commentators pay so much attention to District 12. Usually we got the least amount of notice. Basically, we were the underdogs.

The next few days at school were tortuous, to say the least. They won't show anything from the Hunger Games, until tonight. Rarely do they ever show us anything at school. There has to be major action or change going on for that to happen.

By the time I get home, I am a ball of impatient nerves. I decide to hunt, hoping the quiet peace I usually find in the woods will calm my nerves.

When I reach the other side of the fence, I can instantly feel the change in atmosphere. The woods feel foreign to me, and I feel it is because Katniss is not here. I feel somewhat naked without her presence; a feeling I wish I could get rid of. I do not like feeling so vulnerable. Katniss and I hunted together for four years. Having her jerked away from me so suddenly has left me in shock. It's as if my right hand has been taken away. My longing for her to come home grows immensely; so much it is almost crippling.

Finding no luck in comfort or game, I leave the woods. I walk around the Seam, thinking about everything that has happened in the last few days. Was it only two days ago, that I was sitting in the woods sharing goat cheese and bread with Katniss, and making fun of the Capitol? It feels as if decades have gone by.

I make it to my house in time for the broadcast of the Hunger Games to come on. I am somewhat surprised to find Prim and her mother there.

Prim greets me with a warm hug, and I cannot help but return it. We all gather around my family's old, broken down television set. The screen does not show a clear picture and the sound does not always come through, but it is better than nothing.

Tonight's feature will be the introduction of the two Tributes for each district. This is the part of the games where both Tributes ride through the Capitol in chariots. They are dressed in costumes related to their districts. District twelve has seen quite the humiliation in this department. I think back to the year our tributes were naked, only covered in soot. I shudder at the thought of what Katniss must be going through.

The feature begins with District 1. Their district makes luxury items for the Capitol, so they are decked out in extravagant costumes. Their horses are snow-white with jewels all around their bodies. The Tributes have been spray painted silver, and also have jewels all over them. The crowd goes wild.

District 2 follows, and then 3, 4, and all the way up until 11.

The female Tribute for District 11 is a small, wispy girl. She can be no older than twelve. Having a sister that same age, I wonder how Katniss feels about that.

After District 11 has passed, it seems as if it takes light years for 12 to emerge. When they do, my breath leaves my body.

Katniss and Peeta are on fire. Literally. The crowd is immediately entranced, and I find myself right along with them. Never have I seen Katniss look so beautiful. Though she is not as fancily made up as the other girl Tributes, the look suits her. The fire on her hat and cape seem to light her face up in a way I have only seen once or twice. I am utterly speechless. She blows kisses to the crowd as they call her name from every direction. One of the commentators makes the remark 'Katniss: the girl on fire' and I nod, agreeing. It suited her.

The image of Katniss on fire stayed with me for a while. Every time I would close my eyes, she would be there, on fire. I felt amazement all over again each time the memory came back. Who would have thought the scruffy girl from District 12 could put on such a spectacular show. Who would have thought tough, pigheaded Katniss could look even more beautiful than she was.

God, I wanted nothing more than to see her; in person, and not on some television screen, where she is paraded around the Capitol, like a prize pig before its slaughter.

I try keeping myself busy. Whenever I have free time, my mind wanders. I had to stop thinking about it, or else I would make myself sick. I hunted more than I usually did. I applied myself at school ten times more than I usually did, but none of it mattered. Katniss was still there, in my mind. Her impending death loomed over me like vultures over a dead carcass. What would I do if she died in the Games? Could I go on?

Tonight was the night they announced the scores of each Tribute. The scores could either make them or break them. I knew Katniss would be a shoe-in for nothing less than eight. If they had a bow, there's no telling what she would make.

Prim and her mother have joined us again, by invitation from my mother. I am somewhat surprised to see them here. If I had my way, I would go into hiding and not come out until the Games were over. That way I could mope and grieve in peace and away from the speculating eyes that show pity when they meet my own. Away from the whispers that begin when my back is turned.

The program begins with the commentators announcing the events for tonight. They talk and ramble on about pointless things, and by the end I am ready to throw the television through the wall. They must do it on purpose; keep the viewers on the edge of their seats  
until they're practically salivating to see the program. What it must feel like to be a Gamemaker.

Finally they begin. Naturally District 1 is first. The picture of each Tribute is flashed up on the screen for a couple seconds, and then their score is shown at the bottom. Years of watching the Games have taught me those Tributes who usually get scores of eight and above are the ones most likely to get sponsors. I also learned one year, that some will not show their talents until on the screen. They purposely get low scores to throw their opponents off. I would hope Katniss wouldn't pull a stunt like that.

Most of the Tributes from Districts 1, 2, and 3 earn somewhere in the eight to ten range. I am not surprised. Everyone else averages about a five. By the time District 12 is up, I am wound up tighter than a choke chain on a Rottweiler. Katniss will need sponsors to survive in the ring. Her score will play a big part in getting them.

Peeta's picture flashes up on the screen. It is a couple seconds before his score appears. It is an eight. I find myself surprised. What could a baker's son do, that could earn him an eight? Maybe he threw rock-hard biscuits and knocked one of the people that judge them, out cold. I chuckle quietly. I shouldn't have thought that.

My amusement fades when Katniss's picture appears. My palms are sweating and my stomach is clenched. I pray silently, that Katniss gets a decent score.

The score shows up and it's…

Eleven!

Prim squeals with excitement in her mother's arms, while I beat the air with my fist. She'll definitely be on the priority list, with a score like that. Her chances of winning have increased profoundly.

The anthem plays and the television shuts off. My moment of happiness fades as I remember the Games have not nearly begun. I sigh, feeling my heart sink to my toes.

Prim and her mother give us warm good-byes, and then they are gone. My siblings have gone to bed already, so it is just me and my mother who are awake.

I sit in our ragged recliner chair, staring up at the ceiling. I feel a warm hand on my shoulder and look up into my mother's worn face.

"I do not know what you must be going through, Gale. Be that as it may, I am still here. You know that." She kisses the top of my head, like she used to when I was little. I nod and then watch her walk to the bedroom. I follow an hour or so after. It is a while before I can quiet my mind enough to let me sleep. I think of the question I asked myself earlier: Could I go on, if I lost Katniss in the Games? I try imagining life without her; without ever seeing her again, hunting with her. I may not be the one in the Games, but Katniss is. She may not know it but she holds a little piece of my heart. If she dies in the Games, that little piece goes with her. I will never be the same Gale. I accepted my father's death. It was somewhat of a course of nature. I will never be able to accept Katniss's death. She will die for something that she wasn't alive for; something that was never her fault. She will die in vain because of the Capitol. She will die for the mere joy of the Gamemakers, along with twenty-two other children. Her death will not be justified; none of their deaths will be.

I cannot live with that.

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I wake up the next morning, thankful that it is Friday, even though they will not show anything more of the Games until Sunday. School is excruciating.

Saturday is a bright, sunny day. I decide to hunt. I had already gathered food for my family, so I decide to hunt for Prim and her mother. The supply Katniss left for them must be running out.

I catch four rabbits and gather all kinds of roots, berries, and other edible things. Tomorrow, I will give it to them. They have invited us to watch the interviews at their house.

The rest of Saturday drags on and on; so slow, I am close to ripping my hair out. I go to bed early, hoping to bring tomorrow sooner. I fail miserably, lying in bed for hours.

When Sunday comes, I do not get out of bed until it is time to leave for Katniss's house. Usually, I would be up before the sun, slipping through the fence and meeting Katniss. We would spend all day hunting for our families, stocking up for the week to come.

We arrive at Prim's house in time for the program to begin. I give Katniss's mother the rabbits and other findings. Her face lights up. Whether from relief or appreciation, I will never know.

When the show begins, the cameras are fixed on an empty stage. A man with a white face and powder-blue hair bounces onto the stage. He introduces himself as Caesar Flickerman, as the Tributes file in and sit in their designated chairs.

We sit in agony, as Districts 1-11 are interviewed. I silently size each one of them up, calculating Katniss's chances of overtaking them. Her chances are good with seventeen out of her twenty-three opponents. The other six, from Districts 1, 2, and 3 are the only concerns she will more than likely have.

Finally it is time for Katniss's interview. She steps up to the stage, and I find myself breathless once again. She is, quite possibly, the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. Her dress makes her look as if she is engulfed in flames. Once again, she wears little make-up; her face has a natural beauty, brought out even more by the dress. I will never cease to be amazed by her.

"Oh, she's so pretty." I hear Prim whisper in awe. Her mother pulls her closer, wrapping her arms around her. She kisses the top of her head, and I can see the moisture in her eyes.

Caesar Flickerman holds his hand out to Katniss, who hesitantly shakes it. I see her eyes flicker to the audience, looking for someone. I can tell when she finds them, because she seems to relax almost immediately.

"So Katniss, the Capitol must be quite a change from District Twelve. What's impressed you the most since you arrived here?" Caesar asks flamboyantly.

Katniss seems to think about it for a second, before answering "The lamb stew."

I give an involuntary laugh. Leave it to Katniss to notice the food. She must be having a field day with all of the varieties of fancy cooked meals.

She and Caesar talk animatedly about the dish, while I watch in shock. Katniss seems so at ease with him. I've never seen her talk so easily with anyone. It took me months to even get her to smile at me.

Caesar gives her a secret smile as he says: "What did you think of that costume?"

Her eyes widen in mock fear. "You mean after I got over my fear of being burned alive?"

He laughs and nods. "I thought Cinna was brilliant and it was the most gorgeous costume I'd ever seen and I couldn't believe I was wearing it." Cinna must be her stylist. "I can't I'm wearing this, either." She lifts up her skirt and spreads it as far as it will go. It's positively beautiful. Katniss is even more beautiful.

The audience makes noises of approval. Lots of oohs and ahs.

Katniss begins to twirl around. The audience goes crazy and the host says "Oh do that again!"

She lifts her arms and spins around. She looks as if she is engulfed in flames; she is a goddess. She stops and clutches Caesar's arm. "Don't stop!" He reminds of the younger kids at the puppet shows our school puts on. Katniss surprises me by giggling, as she says "I have to, I'm dizzy!" Katniss giggling? Never had I thought I would hear that. If times were different and she wasn't being sent to her death, I would surely tease her about it.

Caesar makes a jab at Katniss's drunk of a mentor, Haymitch. The audience laughs, and the cameras get a shot of the old bugger. He doesn't seem too happy about the jibe.

They go on to talk about Katniss's high score. The audience is dying to know how she pulled it off, as am I. The Gamemakers will not let her reveal her secret, so Caesar moves on to other matters.

He asks her about volunteering in Prim's place; asks her to tell him about Prim.

Katniss immediately tenses up. Her face goes blank, and I know they've lost her. She's closed herself off, and I do not blame her. If it was me, I wouldn't tell the monsters at the Capitol anything of my family.

She looks to the crowd, for that same person? She looks back at Caesar and I can see the conflict in her eyes, as the cameras get a close up. Finally she answers. "Her name is Prim. She's just twelve. And I love her more than anything."

Prim begins to cry. She reaches out to the television, as if hoping Katniss could some how hear her and reach through. She screams "I love you too, Katniss!" Before burying her face in her mother's necks. Her body shakes with sobs as her mother fights to keep herself calm. I look away, unable to watch the family tear apart right in front of my eyes.

"What did she say to you? After the reaping?"

Katniss swallows hard and looks up into the audience. "She asked me to try really hard to win." The cameras get a shot of the audience. They stared down, at the girl on fire. Their solemn looks of pity and sorrow made me sick. They didn't care. If they did, they wouldn't allow the Capitol to do this.

"And what did you say?" Prompts Caesar. Even through the television screen, I can feel the impatience of the audience.

Katniss takes a shaky breath. "I swore I would." She says quietly.

The buzzer goes off, indicating her time is up. The crowd goes crazy, standing up, applauding. She has them all wrapped around her finger. I am relieved that her interview went so well. She will definitely get sponsors. I just know she will.

Next is Peeta Mellark. I do not know him. I've only seen him a couple times at school and at the bakery. His father is the one who traded me the bread for my squirrels the day of the reaping. There must be something special about him for him to have earned an eight. I am curious as to what that could be.

Peeta captures the audience from the very start. He plays up his role as a baker's son, and compares the different breads of the districts. He even tells a couple jokes. If her weren't Katniss's enemy, I might like him.

Things become serious, when Caesar asks Peeta, if he has a girlfriend back home.

Peeta shakes his head.

"Handsome lad like you. There must be some special girl. Come on, what's her name?" Caesar says.

Peeta sighs, as if giving up. "Well there is one girl. I've had a crush on her since I can remember. But I'm pretty sure she didn't know I existed until the reaping."

The crowd sympathizes with him, and I can tell he's got them all wrapped around his finger. They're eating this up, and hanging on his every word.

"She have another fellow?"

"I don't know, but a lot of boys like her." Says Peeta.

I wrack my brain, unable to guess as to who it could be.

Caesar tries helping him out. "So, here's what you do. You win, you go home. She can't turn you down then, eh?"

I feel sorry for Peeta, I really do, but I cannot let Peeta be the one that will be coming back to our district. I want Katniss to win. And if that means Peeta has to die, then so be it.

Peeta looks down at the floor, and I can see him turn an odd shade of red. "Winning…won't help in my case." says Peeta.

I begin to realize what he means, when Caesar asks, "Why not?"

Peeta's face becomes even redder, as I become sick to my stomach. I can feel my head spinning. No. This can't be happening. Not her!

"Because...because…she came here with me." He stammers.

My stomach turns to ice, and I feel my world crashing down around me, as I hear Prim mumble "Aww,"

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**So I'm pretty proud of myself on this chapter. I think I've reined in my comma use a little, lol. It is the longest chapter I've written. Hopefully I put a lot more detail in. Review, and tell me what you think of the changes! **


	3. Chapter 3

***EDITED***

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**Gale POV:**

"Aww," said Prim. I nearly gagged.

The cameras hold a shot of Peeta's downcast eyes. And then they show Katniss. Her mouth is open. To others, it would look as if she is shocked, but I know it is a sign that she wants to protest. She closes her mouth, pressing her lips tightly together.

"Oh, that is a piece of bad luck," Says Caesar Flickerman.

_Yes, a piece of bad luck indeed_, I think acidly.

I hear the people in the crowd murmuring in agreement; some even giving agonized cries of protest. I am sick. The Gamemakers are probably eating this up. There's no telling what they will do to Katniss and Peeta, now, after his little confession.

"Well, I don't think any of us can blame you. It'd be hard not to fall for that young lady," says the flamboyant host. I'm close to puking. "She didn't know?"

Of course she didn't know! She didn't even know who Peeta Mellark was, until the reaping. He lived in town, while Katniss lived in the Seam. The only contact they could have ever had was at the bakery. Surely not at school-at least not where I saw.

There has to be something going on. How a boy could be in love with a girl he barely knew…And then it hits me. It's a ploy! Haymitch, that drunken genius, is getting them sponsors. What a better way, then to pull the heartstrings of Panem?

All earlier feelings of sickness disappear.

"Wouldn't you like to pull her back out here and get a response?" Caesar asks. Ha! Yes, that could be interesting. I could tell, from Katniss's expression, that she had no idea. The crowd goes wild, screaming, clapping.

"Sadly, rules are rules, and Katniss Everdeen's time has been spent." Caesar turns to face Peeta, and places a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. "Well, best of luck to you, Peeta Mellark, and I think I speak for all of Panem when I say our hearts go with yours."

The amount of applause Peeta received was far more than it was for Katniss. He won them over; wrapped them around his finger. Now they were eating out of his palm, like hungry, stray dogs. Haymitch was a genius.

The anthem plays, and the screen shuts off.

Had it been just days ago, that Katniss and I were sitting in the woods, arguing over leaving? It felt like years.

I wondered what she was doing at this very moment. I'm sure Haymitch and Peeta were in for it, when she got a hold of them. Katniss hated surprises. I wanted nothing more, than to be sitting in the woods with Katniss; to go back to the morning before the Reaping began. We were unaware. If I had been wiser, I would have spent it in a far better fashion, than arguing with and upsetting Katniss. If I had known the small amount of time we had left together, I would have made the most of it, cherishing each lasting second. My yearning for Katniss to be home, safe with her family, cripples me. Part of it could be for my fondness of her, but most of it is for Prim. She's lost so much, in her young life. And now, Panem feels the need to take her sister away; to take away the only stable, constant thing in her life.

Though I am not nearly ready, I go to bed. I feel exhausted, but I am completely awake. My mind is not silent, and I am alone with my thoughts. Looking for distraction, I lie beside my brothers, listening to the sound of their breathing. My mother and sister are asleep, curled next to each other-almost as if their bodies are wrapping around each other in a protective embrace-in the next bed. I am comforted by the sound of their breathing; the warmness of my brothers' bodies next to me. If I lose Katniss, they're all I've got. All I'll ever have left. My thoughts go back to Prim. What will happen to her? Her mother? I promised Katniss I would take care of them. I guess they would be part of me too. But life would be empty. I know that without Katniss, I will never live. When my father was killed, along with Katniss's, I had forgotten what it was to live; what it was to be alive. He had been my role model, my idol. My best friend.

And then I met Katniss, and everything seemed to piece back together. Though I still grieved for my father, I was not alone. Katniss showed me that.

I rolled onto my back, and placed my arm over my eyes, blocking out the moonlight that was shining through my window.

I remembered the day of our fathers' funerals. We received our medals of valor, together, in the Justice Building. We were both eldest children without fathers.

And then I remembered our first encounter. How Katniss had been so weary of me; afraid of me almost.

Soon after that, it became routine to meet up in the woods, and trade advice back and forth, whether it was hunting tips or me showing her how to make snares. We became a team without ever realizing it.

My favorite memory of us was the day she found me singing to myself, sitting on a rock that overlooked a small valley. That was the day I first heard her sing. I had always known her father was a singer. I had heard my father tell funny anecdotes about the amusing songs he would come up with to pass the time in the mines.

It was a particularly cold day, for April. I found myself basking in the little sunlight that the clouds allowed to shine through. I had wrapped myself in my jacket, burying my hands deep within my worn out pockets, to keep the bitter early morning air from freezing them.  
I thought I was alone, not having heard Katniss approach, and began to hum to myself. I lost myself in the song, and began to sing aloud, amused by the puffs of air coming out of my mouth.

"Why don't you ever sing in front of me?"

I jumped nearly twenty feet in the air. Katniss was always sneaking up on me like that. She moved so quietly through the forest, it was almost scary.

I did not answer her, too embarrassed to speak. She smiled, to my surprise. It was rare, that I got a smile out of her. But when I did, it seemed as if the world shifted.

"Singing is nothing to be embarrassed about, Gale. Who taught you that song?"

I cleared my throat, hoping I didn't sound hoarse. "My, uh, father. He learned it from yours actually."

Her eyes changed, becoming sad, but her smile did not falter.

"He used to sing that around the house. To me and Prim."

I didn't know what to say to this, so I stayed quiet.

She moved to sit beside me, burying herself in her own coat. It was small, probably last year's, and it was worn. Her pockets had holes, and I saw where her fingers stuck out. I offered her the blanket beside me, and she took it, spreading it across the both of us. We sat, enjoying the early morning noises of the forest. It was a while before she spoke.

"I can teach you another one, if you'd like." She said tentatively. She looked over at me shyly, and I nodded.

She took a deep breath, and began to sing. It was a sweet song, about love I was sure. Her voice was like nothing I had ever heard. I was sure it would put the Angels to shame.

She sang it once more, as to make sure I had learned most of the words. I joined her this time. Our voices echoed in the morning quiet, the deep tone of mine and the soft, harmony of hers. It was quite simply, beautiful.

When we finished, she looked over at me. The sadness was still in her eyes, and this time she did not smile.

"My father used to sing that to my mother." I knew her mother was a sore subject. Katniss had told me how grieving for her dead husband had caused her mother to detach herself from the world. She did not respond to Katniss or Prim, and it was taking its toll on the two young girls.

I began to sing again, and she joined in. We spent the rest of the day, with Katniss teaching me every song she could remember and then singing them with each other.

I sighed, and rubbed my eyes. Why Katniss? Why could life not stay simple, when it was going good for me?

I wouldn't call it love, but I felt something for Katniss. I knew that if she was killed in the Games, a part of me would die with her. She was my best friend, my confidant. I told her many things, I wouldn't dare say aloud to anyone. She understood my pain.

If there was a God, would he take that from me, after I had lost so much?

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**The thing with Gale and Katniss singing, is something completely from my mind. I do not know if it really happened. Thanks to the suggestion of one of my reviewers, I wrote in something else, instead of something that had already happened in the Hunger Games. **


	4. Author's Note 2

**I deleted my last Author's Note, just so I won't have my story cluttered with them.**

**This is just to tell you guys:**

**Chapter 1 and 2 have both been edited. Chapter 3 will be up in a while. The story is still on hiatus, but I should be back in the groove of things here in a couple weeks.**

**Please make sure you review and tell me how much you like or dislike the changes I made to chapter 1 and 2.**

**PLEASE DON"T KILL ME FOR THIS! =)**


	5. Chapter 4

**Hello my loyal readers. First off, I would like to apologize for keeping everyone waiting for so long. [Like I have with every chapter.]  
This fic is no longer on hiatus. =) But, don't go expecting a chapter update every week. I do have a life. And don't get your hopes up for this chapter, either. I'm a little rusty, and I've lost all of my brilliant ideas, due to the temporary loss of my copy of the Hunger Games. :/ But I've found it and I'm bringing you your chapter updates. I'm sorry you have to suffer through such crap after so long a time of me not updating, though.**

**Updates:  
Chapter 3 has been edited, as well as the other two. I would highly recommend reading them, because some things have been changed, taken out, or just moved. So please make sure to check that out.**

**Also, if you are a Maximum Ride fan and have read my fics about that series, I'm happy to announce that I will be getting back into the groove of updating those also. :)  
Don't cha just love summer? Haha  
**

**With that said, here we go…**

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**Gale POV:**

For the last three days, I had spent all of the nights awake. I could not sleep; I could not quiet my thoughts. Katniss had already entered the Games, and today was when they would show all of the film accumulated from the last three days. The Games had begun. Today would show Katniss being released into the arena with the other Tributes. Today, and every day until the end, Katniss was going to have to fight for her life. Something she had been doing for the last four years. I hoped that would give her the advantage she needed.

I could not concentrate on my normal daily activities. My mind would wander, picturing Katniss in the most horrific of situations. I pictured her death, always gruesome and painful. I would scold myself for even thinking such an absurd thought, reassuring myself that Katniss was strong. She could survive. She _would_ survive.

When it was just a few hours until they aired the day's events, I became impatient. It was making me crazy, and I wondered if I was going to spend each day like this, until the Games were over. Surely I would go mad.

I decided that the only distraction suitable for this situation, was hunting. My family and I were running low on food, and I'm sure Prim's was too. Despite my feelings about the woods, I pushed it aside. I had to do this. I could not slack off despite my reservations about entering the woods without Katniss.

In three hours, I had gotten three rabbits in my always successful snares. I found many berries and I actually shot one squirrel with my bow. As much as I was surprised, I was happy that I had gotten enough to give to Prim and her mother.

Slipping back under the fence, I did not go in the direction of my house. Instead, I went to Prim's. When I offered them a rabbit and the squirrel, their gratitude was suffocating. Prim surprised me with a hug. I knew tonight would be hard for her. I buried my face in her hair, which smelled so much like Katniss; I allowed myself to close my eyes and momentarily pretend it _was_ Katniss that I was embracing, and not her younger sister.

"Don't worry, Prim. She's strong." I whispered.

She nodded, and pulled away. "Thank you, Gale."

I smiled, and left them to be alone.

When I entered my house, the television set had just popped on. I sat heavily in the old armchair and waited. Announcers went through the pointless, scripted things they were supposed to say, and then Claudius Templesmith appears. He is the host for the Games, always drawing out the events dramatically, dissecting each thing that occurs. He is helpful sometimes, but mostly just annoying.

"Welcome to the Hunger Games, ladies and gentlemen. The Games have finally begun."

The cameras take their focus off of Claudius, and does a three hundred and sixty degree sweep of the area. The Tributes have not been released into the arena, so it is empty, desolate. The area is flat, an open stretch of ground. There is a steep slope, and then a lake. There are trees, pines it looks like. I am relieved and happy. Katniss's chances of survival have increased exponentially. The odds are ever in her favor, I think to myself, smiling slightly.

In the middle is the Cornucopia. It is large and golden, shaped like a horn with a curved end. It is a familiar sight, a sight where I have watched countless numbers of Tributes gruesomely murdered. This year, it holds a new meaning and a dark fear over my head. That is where all of the supplies will be held. Their greed for tools and food overruns their survival instincts. They all battle each other, and it is usually District 12 Tributes who are killed in the first seconds. Something inside of me tells me that this will not be the case this go-round.

The cameras go back to the Cornucopia. The Tributes have been lifted up into the arena. They stand there, some impatiently and others terrified, on their little metal circles. They have to stay there for sixty seconds, or get blown to pieces by the land mines. Katniss and I have seen it happen one too many times in the past Games.

The cameras do a sweep on the faces of the Tributes. The first face is Katniss. My heart leaps, after having not seen her face in three days. Beautiful as ever, she scans the Cornucopia. I hope she does not plan to fight. She would surely be a target, because of her score.

After showing a glimpse of all the tributes, we are shown what is at the Cornucopia. Food, crates and crates of it, backpacks, weapons, and a bow! Katniss will need that, if she has any chance of survival. But it's so far away from her. Either way, she will be in trouble. My hope sinks lower and lower.

The gong rings, and suddenly Tributes are running everywhere. A fight has already broken out, over a crate of food. One quickly slays the other. I am in awe of the raw animosity. I can tell already, that these Tributes are the most bloodthirsty yet.

The cameras show Katniss. She is running towards an orange backpack. She reaches it at the same time another Tribute boy does. They wrestle each other for it, and then the boy suddenly lets go, coughing blood into her face. Already, I can see the knife in his back. The cameras show us the Tribute girl running with the handful of knives. A close-up of her face shows the cold, calculating murder in her eyes. I feel my body tense up, scared for Katniss. In a split second, Katniss has the pack over her shoulder, and is sprinting to the trees. The Tribute girl is in full pursuit, and launches a blade in Katniss's direction. In a move so quick, Katniss raises her pack to protect her head. I didn't see it until the replay a few moments later. The knife lodges into the thick material, and Katniss keeps running, a curious grin on her face. Claudius goes mad, with his dramatic retelling and comments.

The cameras take us back to the gruesome scene at the Cornucopia. Tributes are hacking at each other, fighting for the goods they will need to survive. We are shown several bodies, and my stomach churns. Children killing each other for sport. Just so the Capitol can prove that they've got us all; punishing us and our future generations for something that had happened a little more than seventy-four years ago; something that was not our fault.

That last day that Katniss and I were together, we had argued in the woods. She had said she never wanted children of her own. The television showed the exact reason why she did not.

The battles and slayings at the Cornucopia continue for another half hour. Most of the Tributes have fled the scene, taking cover in the dense forest. The screen switches every now and then from the Cornucopia battle to glimpses of how the other Tributes are holding up.

When the fighting comes to an end, Tributes from Districts 1, 2, and 4 have banned together to form a pack. I scowl, wondering how long they will work together before they turn on each other. The cameras follow them, as they slowly trek their way into the forest. They walk with such arrogance, I find myself wishing someone would take them out. They will be the Tributes most everybody will place their bets on. I am sure of this.

I think my wish will come true, when the cameras switch to a view of Peeta. Though I do not know him and I do not know of any skills he possesses, I cannot help but hope that he is different from our districts past Tributes. Besides Katniss, he scored the highest score out of all of our past Tributes. He must be somewhat special. I hope that he will have the sense to take out as many Careers as he can. They are fast approaching him, as the cameras show. And I know he knows it. I can tell in the fierce yet fearful look on his face. Though he may die fighting them, he will be doing Katniss a favor. He would be killing two birds with one stone for her.

Katniss being the person that she is, I know she does not want to be the one to kill Peeta. No Tribute wants to kill their district's other. Though some have had to do that in the end, I surely hope Katniss will not have to.

The Careers have spotted Peeta, who is laying low in a sparse pair of bushes. He is stupid if he thinks that will hide him.

Instead of going straight after him, they throw us for a loop and stop. They form a circle, conferring with each other.

"Maybe if we kill him, and little miss Eleven sees his picture tonight, she will want revenge and come after us. It would make killing her easy and get it out of the way quickly." A blonde girl says. The huge male, who seems to have taken position as leader, shakes his head.

"Yes, that will work, but we've got to go about this slowly. Let her get comfortable; let her think that she is going to win this. Then we catch her off guard. We invite him to join us, and then just when she thinks she's got this in the bag," He pauses, making a slicing motion across his neck. "We take out lover boy. She'll be so heartbroken, that she'll come looking for us, like you said. But at least we will get a good fight out of it. The longer we let her think he is surviving, the angrier she will be when we kill her. Think of the fun we could have." He says gleefully, like a child speaking of a new game to play and not a teenager planning the death of two human beings.

They are stupid. Every last one of them. Katniss does not love Peeta, and she will surely not act absurdly by taking revenge on his killers. If anything, she will be grateful to them, for doing the job she hopes she will not have to do.

His 'pack' gives him murmurs of approval. They clap him on his shoulder, praising him.

"You're brilliant, Cato." The girl, whom I recognize as the girl that threw the knife at Katniss, coos.

He smiles arrogantly and steps away from his group. He cups his hands over his mouth and calls out to Peeta. "Hey Lover Boy, we wanna make an arrangement with you. Don't try hiding, either. We can see you now!"

He must be a raving lunatic if he thinks Peeta will trust him.

He realizes his mistake, so he motions for his group to follow him as he begins to move towards Peeta.

When they are no more than twenty feet apart, Peeta stands. He knows he is cornered but, instead of running, he stands his ground. My respect for him grows immensely.

"We want to offer you a position in our pack." The leader, Cato, says.

The look on Peeta's face is anything but believing. The others laugh, at the look on his face.

"I'm serious. We could use you." Yes, to get to Katniss. The cowards.

Peeta weighs his options, still looking suspiciously over at the Careers. The cameras barely catch his slight nod. I am not surprised. Refusal would mean instant death. I wonder what Katniss will make of this. She and the Career pack will most definitely cross paths in the future.

Cato cups a hand over his ear and says "What's that? I can't hear you." The others laugh.

"All right, I'll join." Peeta calls to them. He walks slowly over, calculating his moves. I can see that he is tense, ready to fight in case this is indeed a trap. When he reaches them, Cato extends his arm resting his hand on Peeta's shoulder.

"Welcome to the pack." Cato smiles fiercely.

Releasing a relieved breath, Peeta smiles, unaware that he has just set not only himself up for death, but Katniss also.

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**This **_**is**_** a cliffy. Sorry ;) The next chapter will be set in this same scene. And I will not wait four months to update. I promise. :/ ****Review like crazy, okay? Tell me how you think I did. Please and thanks. :) **


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